


Obeying His Master

by Proskenion



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Abuse, Beating, Belting, Emotional Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Exhaustion, Gen, M/M, Physical Abuse, Pyschological Abuse, Ramsay Bolton is His Own Warning, Sleep Deprivation, Thramsay - Freeform, Torture, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:28:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23263240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proskenion/pseuds/Proskenion
Summary: Theon hasn't slept in days and is exhausted - which leads to an unfortunate misstep that does not please Ramsay at all.
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Reek, Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy
Comments: 10
Kudos: 43





	Obeying His Master

**Author's Note:**

> HULLO MY SQUID LOVELIES ! 
> 
> Here I am back with another Thramsay… What has happened to me? >.<  
> To be honest with you, I haven't slept in like 29 hours myself without even managing the smallest nap, so my own exhausted-shaking body gave me the idea for it… Here you go. Enjoy!
> 
> (And yes, I hate myself for it.)

Theon stopped in order to gather himself. He had not slept in what felt like years, though he probably had not been more than two or three nights. He did not matter how long he had not slept really, the only thing that was really important to him now was the ache and shivers in his whole body due to the exhaustion. And he could not allow his body to fail him, the slightest weakening of it could mean dropping the tray he was holding, with all the fine cuttlery and master’s food on it, and he could not let that happen. So he stopped and breathed in, gathering all his strength and will to take control over his feeble body. But when he started walking again, he felt like his legs were no more than two threads of silk in the wind. Despite it all, he manage to reach master’s chambers. He knocked and entered. 

‘Your lunch, master,’ Theon mumbled as Ramsay looked up to acknoledge his entrance. He pushed the door closed with his flank and walked in. 

That was when his feet finally betrayed him. Theon did not understand what happened exactly. Last thing he knew he was walking, and the moment after he was on the floor, the plates and food and wine all scattered around him. He stared, paralysed, not even registering when Ramsay called :

‘Reek ? Reek !’

The second time he heard, and it shook him as if he were nothing more but bit of sea salted spray in a storm. His whole body started shaking and his vision blurred as tears immediately filled his eyes. His chest suddenly felt too tight and it hurt like burning iron, his breath always shorter and shorter. His vision blurred from more than tears. 

‘Reek ! _Reek_ ! REEK !’ 

A slap, loud and stinging like a million needles, brought Theon back to consciousness. His eyes opened on master’s face over him. His body reacted by instinct as it curled away from him. 

‘I – I – I – I’m so – so – sorry, master, I’m so –’ 

‘Reek, shut up.’ Ramsay’s voice was firm, but strangely soft. Theon immediately obeyed, a cold shiver running down his spine. Ramsay smiled. 

‘Now, Reek, calm down,’ he said gently. ‘There’s no need to put yourself in such a state. Right ?’ 

Realising Ramsay was expecting an answer, Theon managed through panicked sobs, ‘Yes, m – master. Forgive me.’ 

Ramsay made a move to stroke his Reek’s hair. Theon flinched, expecting pain, and almost cried as he felt a soft caress instead. Ramsay handed him a flask. 

‘Here, have some.’ 

Theon looked at it with wide eyes, as if expecting it to assault him. He could not help but shake his head in distrust, and cringed when he realised what he had just done. But master did not seem angry. Instead, he took the flask to his own lips and started to drink, making sure Theon would see the liquid go inside his mouth and down his throat. He moaned, wiped his mouth, and said : 

‘Here, see ? Just water.’ He handed Theon the flask again and watched with a contented smile as Reek drank. Then he took the flask and put it back on his belt where it had been hanging. He stood up and gave Reek’s his hand to help him on his feet. He put both his hands on Reek’s shoulders and said : 

‘Good boy.’ He smiled widely. He waited a little, for the words to sink in, for Reek to look up at him. Just before he was about to mumbled apologies, Ramsay said, smiling wider, ‘now get to my desk, and bend over it, hands on the desktop.’

Theon knew what it meant, and in spite of him trying not to, he couldn’t help the shaking of his limbs to come back, the tears to fill his eyes again. He looked at Ramsay pleadingly, but the man was watching him expectantly. 

‘Well ?’ he said. ‘ Reek, did you hear me ? Did you understand what I said ?’ 

‘Y – yes, master,’ Theon answered in a breath. 

‘You’ve done a mistake, Reek, this can’t go unpunished. Surely you agree ?’

‘Yes, master,’ his voice even lower than before. 

‘Then, go to the desk.’

His whole body only wanted to flee, to run as fast as possible and curl up on itself in the darkest cell of the kennel. But Theon moved, slowly. Obeying his master. 

He froze when positioned as asked, and waited. He had closed his eyes, but when he heard Ramsay coming closer and opening one of the desk drawer he opened them instinctively, jerking his head up. He blanked when he saw Ramsay taking a leather strap out of it, one he recognised as the kind used to attached stirrups to the saddle. But that is not how master meant to use it now, nor why he had kept it here in the first place. Again, Theon closed his eyes and bent down his head. 

He couldn’t help the dread crawling in like poison at the anticipation of what was coming. No matter how many times similar things – or worse tings – had happen. The fright was always the same, stinging and unrelenting, at the thought of the pain to come. 

He jumped when he felt Ramsay’s body behind his, and Ramsay’s arms around his waist. He swallowed as Ramsay slowly undid his breeches and pulled them down to his ankles. Then Ramsay slowly, almost gently, put his ragged shirt up to his shoulders, exposing most of his back. A warm tear escaped Theon’s eyelid, falling silently on the wooden desk. He heard Ramsay’s footsetps as he positioned himself at the right distance for the work at hand. He braced himself, not bothering to even consider asking how many blows would come – he had learned long ago those was highly fluctuant, depending on many factors. 

_Thwack !_

Reek did not hold back his yell. The first blow, no matter how ready you could get, was always an aching surprise. 

_Thwack !_

The second lash landed right above the first, leaving a burning trail on his lower back. He cried out. 

_Thwack !_

The third blow, skilfully landing on the same spot as the previous one, drew blood. _No, not yet, not that soon_ , Reek thought as another scream escaped his lips. 

He quickly lost count, quickly lost any notion of time and space, existing only in a wild fire of excruciating pain. Each lashes would inevitably drag a yell out of him, make his body jerk in pain, until he was too weakened by the repeating harsh blows that came all the way down from his middle of his back to his thighs, leaving purple, burning welts. His body just lied still on the desktop then, feeble moans and whimpering sobs rolling up his painful throat without him knowing it.

When Ramsay stopped, Theon was barely conscious. He felt master grab his hair and pull his head back up, and his lips were met with the neck of the flask again. He drank avidly, until the flask was empty. Only then Ramsay released his scalp, leaving Theon some time to breath and get back to his senses. When he saw his Reek stammering to stand up, Ramsay deliberately put the strap next to him on the desk with a loud _crack_ sound. He sneered as Reek jumped, almost falling backwards. 

Sniffing and sobbing, though as quietly as possible, Theon put back his clothes on, trying but failing to ignore the pain that was flaring through his whole body. He turned to face his master, head down and hands clapped together in front of him, as Ramsay had gone back to sit near the fireplace. 

‘What do you say, Reek ?’ he asked without looking at him but with his full attention on him. 

Theon swallowed, gathering the last strength he had to mumble, ‘Thank you, master. For giving me the punishment I deserved.’ 

‘Good,’ Ramsay answered. ‘Now, clean this mess,’ he ordered, gesturing to the scaterred dish on the floor. ‘And the one you made on my desk too. I don’t want your repulsive, stinking snot on it any longer.’ 

Reek did not answered. He simply did what he was ordered to do. He knew better than talk when it was not strictly necessary. Wincing at each one of his moves, he limped to the desk, and cleaned the small puddle he had created with his tears and muccus with the back of his sleeve. Then he went to kneel beside the mess on the floor, and slowly, meticulously started to clean it all, each gesture as delicate as possible, both in order to avoid unnecessary pain in his aching limbs and to prevent any other mistake for today. 

Ramsay sat comfortably on his seat, watching over his Reek kneeled on the floor at his feet. Where he should be. Obeying his master.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedbacks are always appreciated :) <3


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